


Who We Chose To Be

by Priestlyislove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Firestarter - Freeform, Government Experimentation, Human Castiel, M/M, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6333085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Priestlyislove/pseuds/Priestlyislove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loosely based on the Stephen King book Firestarter. Sam and Dean were born with strange powers due to experiments done on their late parents. 18 year old Dean is now charged with protecting his brother from the agencies after them. A prodigious agent, Castiel, finds their latest hideout. He finds himself faced with a difficult choice; kill these boys or rebel against everything he's ever known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He remembered darkness. It was suffocating. Or maybe it wasn’t the dark choking him, but the smoke. There was a lot of smoke. He sat up in his bed. “Mom? Dad?” he yelled. But he knew it was pointless. His brother was screaming louder. His screams were wordless, just like every night. But this night was different. So Dean ran. He saw fire in his brother’s room. It tried to grab him with its greedy tongues. There was so much screaming. He was terrified. So he kept running. He made it outside. It was dark out there too. The cold soaked into his body. He tried to look back at the house, but all he saw was flame.

He woke from his memory in a cold sweat. He closed his eyes again and breathed. That was over ten years ago, when he was only eight. He opened his eyes again and looked to his brother, who laid beside him. He was still so small. His brown hair was messy and hadn’t been cleaned enough. His face seemed to be stuck in a permanent frown. “Sammy,” he whispered, nudging him gently. His brother looked at him groggily.

“I was sleeping, Dean,” he complained quietly. “What?”

Dean smiled a little. “Sorry. But I just realized something. We’re going to be okay.”

Sam sighed and rolled over, turning his back to his brother. “You always say that.”

“Yeah, but I had a vision this time. Seeing everything we’ve been through reminds me how strong we are. If we could make it through that, we could make it through anything.”

Sam didn’t move. “Seeing death isn’t usually thought of as a good thing.” Before Dean could respond, he continued, “I know I killed them, Dean. You can tell me the truth.”

Dean sighed internally. Dean didn’t want to lie to him, but sometimes he had to. Unfortunately, Sam was a smart kid and always found out the truth one way or another. But this was one truth he didn’t need. Besides, Dean didn’t blame him for it. It wasn’t his fault. But he would blame himself if he knew. “Sammy, I told you, their death had nothing to do with you.”

Sam sat up, facing him again. He hugged his knees. “Everyone lies to me, Dean. You’re the only one who ever tells the truth. Don’t mess that up. I need to be able to trust you.”

“Of course you can trust me, kid.” He stood and ruffled his hair. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.” The change of subject was forced, but Dean didn’t care.

Sam got up as well, following him out of their gray room. There wasn’t any furniture in there, but it was the safest room, so that’s where they slept. They just had a couple of blankets strewn on the floor. It wasn’t like there was much furniture in the other rooms. A couple chairs, a good table. The whole house was plain, but they couldn’t complain. They were happy to have this much. And the house was secluded deep in the woods. It felt safe, and it had been a long time since the boys felt safe.

They went outside. The sky was a washed blue and the air was brisk. Dean shivered a little. They stopped at a large patch of dirt. Sam stepped into the middle of it. “Okay, show me what you got.”

“I don’t wanna do this.” He stared at the ground.

Dean sighed. He wished they could stop. He wished that his little brother never had to do this ever again. But if he didn’t learn control, he could get himself hurt. What happened to their mother could happen again. “Too bad. Show me.”

Sam closed his eyes, holding out his right hand. He scrunched up his face. A spark. Suddenly there was a little fire in his hand. He whimpered.

“Come on, Sam. Just hold it.”

“It doesn’t-I _can’t_ -“ In a single motion, he opened his eyes and tossed the flame at the ground. Dean stomped it out. “This is dumb. I can’t make it do whatever I want, Dean, you know that. I just make it.”

Dean shook his head. “I know you can do it. You just gotta…I don’t know. You just gotta do it right.” Sam looked like a kicked dog. “Don’t make that face at me, man. I know you’re trying. Let’s just go. Bobby got mad at us for being late last time.”

Sam obediently followed Dean through the woods. They looked for the markers they had left, careful to not get lost in the twisting trees. It was a thirty-minute walk if they hurried. They talked about small things, like comic books and snacks. They came upon the clearing where Bobby was waiting with his pickup truck. They had to meet here because there were no clear paths to their home that a car could fit on.

“There’s my boys,” Bobby smiled a little. “You shouldn’t make an old man wait out in the cold like this.” Dean hugged him but Sam hung back. Bobby looked at the younger boy. “You too, Sammy. I need you to warm me up.” Sam laughed a little and gave the man a hug.

Bobby brought out four bags of groceries and gifts from the world outside their woods. “I hope this is enough to keep you satisfied until I can come back.”

“This is great, Bobby. Thanks.” Dean said as Sam started searching through the bags.

“Nonsense. I wish I could do more. You sure you couldn’t come live with me instead? There’s no reason for two young boys to live alone like this.”

“I’m turning eighteen next month. I’m practically an adult. We’ll be okay.” Bobby didn’t say anything. “I promise.”

“Don’t move away too soon, alright? I know you two skip around like jackrabbits and I know you got to but please…before you go, say goodbye.”

A certain sadness overtook Dean. This house they were staying in wasn’t a home. It wasn’t supposed to be either. They had stayed here the longest, but how much longer before they were found? He didn’t know.  “You know we will if we can.”

“Right. Take care of yourselves, alright?” They nodded at him and he climbed back into his car. He waved at them one last time before disappearing into the forest, on some trail only he used.

“Okay Sam, let’s go.” He picked up the heavier of the bags, leaving the lighter two for his brother. “We’ve got a long walk back.”

When they made it back, something felt wrong. Dean handed his bags to Sam silently, motioning for him to hide behind the house. He nodded and scurried off. Dean slowly approached the door, which was slightly ajar. He felt his stomach drop. He pushed it open, entering the house silently. He didn’t know what to expect. How many agents would there be? How heavily armed were they?

He froze when he heard a noise in the kitchen. He took a deep breath and flung open the door. There was only one man and he jumped when the door slammed into the wall. He turned to face Dean. He was on the short side and had short black hair. He looked like he hadn’t shaved for a few days and wore a dirty overcoat. He smiled amiably at Dean.

“I’m very sorry for breaking into your home. Do you live alone out here?” His voice was surprisingly deep and gravelly. Dean only responded with a cold glare. The man smiled nervously. “I was hiking and got lost when I stumbled across this place. I was hoping you’d have a phone I could borrow.”

Dean faked a smile, pretending to listen to his story. “I’m surprised you dared to enter these woods. People say there’s a dangerous person living out here. They’re wrong, of course.” He met eyes with the man. His eyes turned black for a moment and the stranger collapsed. “There’s  _two_ dangerous people living out here.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Cas woke up, he was tied to a chair. He was bound tight enough that he couldn’t move any of his limbs. He had been stripped of his trenchcoat. He could hear soft murmuring coming from the other room.

The boy from earlier strolled into the room. His freckled face was stained by the blood dripping from his nose. His expression was cold and hard. Cas spoke up innocently, “What happened to you?”

“None of your business,” he crossed his arms across his chest. “Now, you’re going to tell me who you really are, if there are any others with you, that sort of routine stuff.”

“I told you, I just got lost, I-“

“Liar,” he interrupted him. “Let’s just get this out of the way now. I know when people are lying. That’s what makes me a freak, plus what I did to you earlier. Don’t think I can’t do it again.”

Cas’ mind was racing. “That’s…incredible.”

The boy scrunched up his nose. “Excuse me?”

“I wasn’t told that the Firestarter could do anything else.”

“He’s not ‘The Firestarter,’ he’s a kid.” The boy grumbled.

Cas squinted his eyes and cocked his head in thought. “So you aren’t him? Then you must be his brother. Dean, right? I was told you died in the fire that took your mother. You're just full of surprises. Please bring your brother in here. I want to meet him too.”

“You’re in no situation to be making demands. If everything goes right, he’ll never even have to look at you." Dean said this part more to himself. He turned his attention back to Cas. "How do you know about the fire? Tell me or I’ll…I’ll be forced to kill you,” he spoke unconvincingly. His voice wavered a little. It was almost charming.

"I’m not scared of you. You’ve never killed anyone before. It’s all over your face. You’re inexperienced and young.” Cas said, decidedly unimpressed.

“So are you!” he scoffed childishly. “You got caught really easy. Is this your first day or something?”

“I’m only twenty-two, but I'm not inexperienced. I'm a prodigy. You’re a bit of a prodigy yourself, aren’t you? It took the survivors years to be able to do anything, yet here you are, playing with minds like you were born to do it,” there was a wild look in his eyes. “You fascinate me.”

“Buy me dinner first,” he rolled his eyes. He casually picked up a knife off the table. He kept glancing at Cas, hoping to get a reaction from his threatening motions. He got nothing. Maybe he wasn’t as scary as he thought. “What’s your name? And what _is_ your position? Chasing a couple of orphans doesn’t seem like top priority stuff.”

“I’m Castiel. And you shouldn’t be so modest. Your brother has extraordinary power and we need power like that on our side. He could save lives. Who would go to war with a country who controls a monster?”

“That’s a weird name,” Dean nodded to himself, not listening past his introduction. He had heard this bullshit before. “I’ll just call you Cas. So why are you being so compliant, Cas?”

Cas shrugged. “We’re not your enemy, Dean. We want you to understand the situation. We hope you'll work with us as opposed to against us.” Dean was silent, still fiddling with the kitchen knife. He was trying to work up the nerve to use it. “What happened to John was-“

The knife was against his neck. “Don’t you even speak his name,” Dean growled, grabbing him by a fistful of hair. “He would kill you without thinking twice. He wanted revenge for what you people did to us, for the pain you caused. He died fighting. So will I.”

Cas didn't move. “Killing me won’t protect you. They’ll come for me. They’ll follow the tracks I left and they’ll find you. And if I’m dead, then that just proves your brother is a dangerous thing. You wouldn’t want them to think that.”

Dean closed his eyes. He let go and backed away. “Why are you doing this?” his voice was softer. The bad cop routine dissolved and Cas only saw the boy desperate to protect his family. He really was so young. Cas' voice seemed to get lost in his throat for a moment.

“I told you. It’s for everyone’s sake.”

“And how do you know? How do you know they won’t just kill him? Do you want his blood on your hands?” Cas was silent, his eyes cast down. Dean barked, “He’s _fourteen_!” and plunged the knife into the table, wood splintering with a satisfying crack. They both were stunned by the action.

Dean released his grip from it, sighing. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair. Cas caught himself staring. He quickly looked away, reminding himself who tied him to this chair. This wasn’t some boy; it was an enemy. An unfairly attractive enemy.

“He’s awkward and sweaty and really, really smart. He could’ve been something great. But because of people like you, he’s gotta spend his whole life on the run. He didn’t do anything wrong. He feels bad for the cow when we eat beef, for God’s sake. All he did was exist, and now he’s getting punished for it. Don’t you dare tell me he deserves it or it’s for a greater purpose or any of that bullshit. A kid should get to be a kid.”

 “What about you?” Dean blinked as though he forgot there was someone else in the room. Cas squinted his eyes. “Don’t you think you deserve to be saved?”

Dean stopped to think. He laughed humorlessly. “I’ve never done any good in my life. Give me the opportunity, and I wouldn’t take it either. I’m just not like that. I’d have killed myself already if it wasn’t for him. He still needs me.” He swallowed before smiling bitterly. “So don’t think threatening my life will do you any good. Don’t even bother trying to tempt me with fake promises of a safe, normal life if I go along with this. Because I’m already dead inside.” He slowly annunciated each word.  

He turned away from his prisoner, facing the door. “I’ll be back later. I need to fill him in and make sure he’s doing alright. He’s probably scared.” He stepped to leave but froze in the doorway.

“And make sure you remember this; he’s a ‘monster’ because that’s the way he was made. I chose to be one.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Dean, we don't have time for this. We need to leave right now.” Sam rubbed his arm uncomfortably. After Dean explained the situation, he suggested Sam should practice his ability. Sam was not fond of this plan.

Dean shifted his weight. “I need to think of what we’re going to do with Cas first. If we leave him here, he’ll tell them everything he knows. They didn't even know I was alive. If what he knows gets out...it'll be a lot harder for us, that's for sure. But we can't kill him. He's right, it would just make us seem like bad guys.” And Dean wasn't sure he could kill someone if it came down to it. He wouldn't want Sam to have to do it either. Killing him wasn't even an option.

Dean could see the gears in Sam’s mind turning. He spoke meekly, which in its own right told Dean he wasn't going to like this plan. “Then should we take him with us?”

Dean refused to even consider it. He shook his head. “Sammy, he’s one of them. We can't trust him. Bringing him with us would only put us in danger.”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe he'll see we’re not what he expected and change his mind.” Dean snorted, unconvinced. Sam sighed. He was getting nowhere fast.

“There's no easy solution. So for now, let's focus on what we know. And what we know is this. I think I have a way for you to control it better.” Dean thought back to the knife now lodged in their table. He was angry and acted out. Sam was angry too, he just hid it better. “When you were a kid, you started a lot more fires. I don't think they've stopped because we're working on controlling them. I think they stopped because you started bottling up the rage that would come out naturally when you were younger. If you let it out, you'll be able to do more. Bigger fires, and hopefully more control.”

  
Sam went pale. “Dean, I wasn't just powerful. I was destructive. There's no control involved in that. I wasn't a superhero, I was a bomb. If I had control, then mom and dad...they'd still be here, wouldn't they?”

  
“We have to try.” Dean growled, ignoring the question. They both knew what he'd answer, and they both knew the truth. “You have to take risks. Otherwise they'll be able to take us without a fight. If you don't try, then it's all over because right now, you have no power backing your spark. All you have is a little flame and little control. It won't save us.” Sam swallowed. Dean regretted lashing out. Maybe Sam needed tough love, but enough things in their life were rough. Dean didn't want to add to that. “Look, I wish you didn't have to do this. I tell you that all the time and I mean it all the time. I wish I could be in your place, that I could protect us instead. But my abilities are useless. I couldn't even knock out Cas without starting to bleed. You can do so much more though. And if you learn to control it, maybe you'll even be able to use it for good.”

  
Sam paused. “I'll...I’ll try, okay? Just stand back a little bit more.” Dean backed up compliantly. Sam closed his eyes, breathing slowly. He outstretched a palm, and a fire began to burn. Sam didn't make a sound.

  
Dean wasn't at a point where he could read minds. Maybe one day he'd be able to. But for now, he could feel Sam’s thoughts whirring around in his head. They got louder as he focused. He couldn't make out any words, but he could hear them yelling and whispering. He heard Sam’s voice and his own voice and scary voices that he'd like to forget. This had never happened before.

  
The fire started to move up Sam’s hand and burned through his sleeve. His skin was unaffected, but the same couldn't be said for his shirt. Dean felt the crushing weight of his worry grow stronger. This was a bad idea. “Okay Sam, that's enough.” There was no response. Sam hair began to whip around wildly, as though there was a windstorm circling his head. His mouth was slightly agape. “Sam, stop it. Open your eyes!” He barked, fear creeping into him. Sam obeyed, his eyes snapping open. There was no pupil, no iris. It was all just a glowing white.

  
Dean froze. He was scared. He wasn't scared of him, but he was scared for him. He remembered Sammy walking out of the house, the flames evaporating from his body. For a second Dean thought his eyes were white, but when he blinked they were green and lifelike again. He remembered his dad sheltering them away from the ambulance as it carried away their mother. But he could see the charred disfigurement that used to be her hand peek out from beneath the white blanket they laid over her. He remembered how scared he was when he lost her. That fear was doubled now.

  
"Sammy!" He cried and grabbed him by the shoulders. Immediately he pulled away, his right hand burned. But it seemed to work. Sam gasped and blinked, his eyes returning to their normal state. The fire was gone. The only proof that any of it just happened was Dean's scorched palm. Sam stared past Dean, a strange look of wonder on his face. He didn't seem hurt at all. In fact, he seemed a lot better than when they started. "Sammy?"

  
"Wow." he breathed. He looked to Dean and snapped out of his faze. "Oh my god, did I-" Dean pulled him into a tight hug. He hugged back. Dean let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. "Are you okay? Y-your hand...I'm sorry."

  
"It's okay. I hardly brushed against it. Sorry that I made you do that. You don't have to do it again. I'm just glad you're okay." He paused briefly. "You _are_ okay, right?"

  
"Yeah, yeah...I'm fine." Sam always said he was fine. But this time, he really wasn't. It wasn't that he was hurt or felt bad. The problem was he felt _good_. He forgot everything in that moment. He was free from everything tethering him to the world. It felt really good. But he knew it was bad. "Let's go bandage up your hand."

  
Dean knew his little brother wasn't fine. He didn't need to be able to tell when someone was lying to do that. They had spent forever together, he knew him well. But he could never truly understand Sam. They were too different fundamentally. He was scared one day he wouldn't understand him at all.

  
"If something's wrong, you can always tell me, you know that, right? There's nothing I won't understand."

  
Sam smiled a little. "I know."

  
_Liar,_ they both thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Cas heard the shuffling of feet outside the door. He remained silent. He knew he shouldn't try anything until he knew more about his captors. They were hardly what he expected, but part of the job description was to be adaptable.

Dean returned, chewing on something and holding out a little gray wrapper at him. “Poptart?” He said, spewing crumbs.

“Excuse me?” Cas squinted at him. There was some sort of snack food in the wrapper.

“We’re not gonna starve you, we’re not dicks. I’m not untying you, but I could just like put it in your mouth.” Dean slowly realized the faults in his plan as he spoke. “Okay, maybe’ll think of something else.”

Cas grimaced. “No thanks.” He continued to stare at it.

“You're acting like you’ve never seen one before.” Dean chuckled, but when he didn't even get a smile from Cas, he realized that might actually be the case. “You're kidding, right?” He thrusted the snack closer. “It’s a goddamn poptart. Don’t call yourself a prodigy and then say you've never seen a poptart before.”

“I was kept in peak physical condition, Dean,” he deadpanned. There was something about how he said his name that Dean almost liked. “We didn't eat junk food.”

Dean sat down on the table. “ _Really_?” He spoke with genuine disbelief. “Dude, that sucks. You've never had a twinkie? Fruit roll ups? What about burgers? Did they let you have burgers?” Cas shook his head. “Why would anyone _willingly_ live like that? You are missing out.” Dean pulled the wrapper off the poptart. “Just take one bite of it, alright? You’ll understand.”

Castiel considered his options. They wouldn't kill him, at least not yet, so the chances of it being poisoned were low. And he didn't want to seem reluctant to comply this early on. And a little part of him was curious. He opened his mouth.

Dean ripped off a piece and put it in his mouth. His face was hot. “This is awkward,” he mumbled, trying to dispel the tension. Cas didn't notice, too busy focusing on what he had just swallowed.

“Wow…that's...that's something.” He furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “I've never eaten anything like that before.

Dean laughed a little. “You don’t really strike as a sweets guy, though. I feel like you’d be more likely to stay up all night with a monster mixed in your coffee. Probably on your fourth cigarette that evening, pouring over papers.”

Cas gave him a crooked smile. “I don’t know about that, but if you were raised by the facility, you’d probably be a star. I can see you stretching in a training room, surrounded by the people you flirt with.”

“So you do have an imagination,” Dean gave him another piece. “I thought you were a mindless drone, sent only to destroy.”

“The mission was never to destroy,” Cas interjected. “It was recon. I was just supposed to bring your brother back.”

Dean huffed. “Man, we had a nice chemistry going. Did you really have to bring it back to that?” Cas did not answer him. Dean stood up. He stretched, turning to face the small window behind Cas. He stared out at the tangled woods and sighed. “You know, I could almost see myself liking you.” Cas’ heart skipped a beat. “Too bad we’re on opposite sides of this fight, huh?”

“It’s not a fight.” He protested.

“When you fuckers killed my dad, it couldn’t become anything else.” Cas could not see his face. His voice showed no signs of emotion. Cas had no idea what he was thinking.

“The worst bit is I know you’re not lying,” Dean spoke again, his voice low. “You truly believe that you can convince Sammy and me to come with you peacefully. You think everything will be fine and dandy when we’re there. You’re an idiot.”

Cas stared at the ground, deep in thought. “You’re making yourself into a martyr, Dean. Not every situation can be solved by you sacrificing yourself. No one needs to be hurt. With all of your power, can’t you see that?”

Dean punched the wall. The house shook and Cas flinched a little. This was his second aggressive outburst, Cas noted mentally. “I don’t want any damn power! I don’t want to be able to see inside people’s heads! This wasn’t my choice!” Dean pulled his hand back, still refusing to look at Cas. He spat, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“…maybe I wouldn’t.” Dean turned to look at him, surprise evident on his face. That wasn’t the response he was used to. It wasn’t the response Cas was trained to say, either. “But if you talked to me, maybe I could try.”

“And why would you want to understand my feelings? I thought we were just weapons to you.”

“Dean, you don’t seem to realize just how special you are. Abilities aside. You’re fiercely compassionate and loyal. You could’ve ditched your brother a long time ago, you could have had a normal life. Even if you don’t think you deserve it now, at some point in your life you must’ve. And your brother is dangerous. But you’re still by his side. And despite all your anger, you don’t want to hurt anyone. All of that hate you could be channeling at the world, you turn it against yourself instead. Dean, I…I’ve never met someone like you in my entire life. I want to know you.”

“And,” he added, “for the first time in my life, not because someone told me to. Because _I_ want to.” He paused, chewing on his lip. “You don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to. If you think any information is vital to your escape or you don’t want in the hands of the facility, you don’t have to tell me.”

Dean walked in a circle around him once, then twice, then a third time. Cas did not move as he sized him up. Dean couldn’t help but crack a smile. “My name’s Dean Winchester, I’m an Aquarius, and I like long walks on the beach. Your turn.” Cas blinked. “Well, if you want to know more about me, I should get something out of it too, right? If I know who you are, I’ll be more comfortable talking to you. It makes sense.”

“Alright…uh, you know I am Castiel, yet you continue to call me Cas. I have never had a burger,” Dean snorted, “I have always wanted to see the Grand Canyon,” he paused. “And I have only fallen in love once.” _And I didn’t plan to do it again._ He kept that part to himself.

“Well that’s something. Who were they?” Dean sounded genuinely interested. Or maybe he was just looking for Cas’ weak point. Either way wouldn’t make a difference.

“Her name was Anna. She had red hair. She was smart and beautiful and she would always come talk to me.” Cas looked away. “But she broke protocol. She had to leave the organization. I haven’t seen her since. I do not know if she is alive.”

“That’s bullshit.” Cas blinked. “You let them take away your girl because she broke a rule? I know you’ve been brainwashed by them, but that’s just messed up.”

“What could I have done?” He spoke hopelessly.

“Anything. You didn’t have to win. Maybe you would get kicked out too, maybe you would get killed too, but at least she would’ve known you loved her. At least you would’ve been together.”

Cas then did what Dean least expected; he smiled. It was different than his other smiles. It was almost…softer. “But if I had gone with her, I would have never met you."


End file.
